Your Brother, Ludwig
by E.R. Kline
Summary: Freshman, Ludwig, is painfully shy and socially awkward, especially after moving to a new town with his cousins and transferring schools. Chronicling his day-to-day life in a series of letters to his absent brother, Gilbert, Ludwig learns, not only about friendship and brotherhood, but about love and himself as well.
1. October Thirteenth

October Thirteenth

Dear Gilbert,

I haven't seen you in a while now, so I'm going to take this opportunity to write to you to keep you up to speed on my current situation. You know, Gilbert, you've always been the only one I could talk to about stuff like this. And, by that, I mean... teenage problems. You've always been so good at telling me it was going to be okay.

Anyhow, today I finished moving in with Roderich and Elisabeta. I wish I still lived with you though. Sure, our cousins are nice and all, but it's not the same. Elisabeta, even though she's very sweet and kind, treats me like a child. I'm not a little boy, I'm in high school now. And Roderich... Well... he gets on my nerves sometimes. But, you know how he is.

Speaking of high school, I start tomorrow at my new school. It kind of stinks that I have to restart everything here but it's not like I'm leaving anyone behind at the old place. I didn't have any friends there either. However, I think that's why I'll miss going to school with you. After you graduated last year, I didn't have anybody to walk with to class or anything. And, it's not like I was especially picked on but I just find it hard to speak up some times. I guess it's because I'm shy. Elisabeta tells me it's because I'm shy.

I don't mean to be so awkward, I just see people differently than everyone else does! I guarantee, though, if I have to get stuck in counseling again like I did at the old school, I'm going to come and live with you again, whether you like it or not. And I hope you do like it and won't be disappointed in me that I left because you're my brother and I love you.

Maybe there will be somebody even more unsure than me and we can become friends. That probably won't be the case though since I know I won't make the first move to initiate a friendship and, if they're just as shy as I am, I know they won't either.

I wish people weren't so intimidating. I wish I could see people and think "There's someone I can be friends with! We share interests and they seem like they'd be a great form of companionship! I think I'll go up and converse with them!" But I don't. I see people and think "God, I hope they don't notice me. I hope they don't try to talk to me and get me to open up. I don't want to tell them how I'm feeling. I don't want them to know about my private life. What if they find out what went on before I moved here? What if I get made fun of?"

Damn this anxiety and damn my personality!

Elisabeta says I should just try and seem friendly. She says if I try hard enough, someone is bound to want to make friends with me. I don't even know how I'd feel about having friends... Are they a lot of work? How do you treat them? Are there lines and boundaries that you shouldn't cross nor let others cross? What is for sharing with friends and what isn't? And, I've never had friends so I'd likely treat them badly anyhow, and I'd rather not have people hate me even more than they probably will once they meet me.

In case you've forgotten, I'm a freshman. Roderich keeps trying to encourage me by telling me stories about his ninth grade year but they're actually quite pathetic, as I expected from the start. He was in the orchestra as the pianist and you can probably guess the rest. Long story short, he met Elisabeta and somehow (somehow!) got her to fall in love with him (or something similar to love) and now they're "happily married" and "living the dream life."

Personally, I don't think so. If I were them, I wouldn't consider the dream life taking care of their failure of a younger cousin.

And, sorry to be talking about their marriage so much. I know you didn't support it. I know you had feelings for Elisabeta before. I just figured I'd keep you updated in case you cared.

Do you care? About me, that is. Are you going to take the time to write back or are you going to ignore me and continue doing whatever it is that you're doing.

I'm sorry, Gilbert, that was out of line. I know I shouldn't question you. Of course you care, you'd say. I'm your younger brother, you'd say.

When you come home, we're going to have a party. I don't think Roderich and Elisabeta would agree but I don't care what they say. I'm going to celebrate when you come back. And, I know you'll come back because you love me, right?

Of course you do. You're my brother.

So far today, I've succeeded in unpacking my room. It looks pretty similar to how it did in the old house. My bed is against the north wall by the door, same olive green sheets. My desk and other stuff is across the room by the window, just like how it used to be. My room is a little bit bigger than the one we shared at the old house so it's weird to have all that space to myself. Plus, you can get into the attic from there too, only Elisabeta says I shouldn't go up there yet.

The walls are dark blue. I picked out that color because it reminded me of the rental car we got that time we went to Germany and stayed up all night driving around Berlin and you almost crashed it and I was so angry because Dad would have been so upset with us if you did but then you took me to get ice cream from that twenty-four-hour place in the city to make it up to me. I think that's one of my favorite memories.

You know, I miss Dad a lot sometimes. He wasn't there so much when we were growing up but after he died, it makes you feel kind of hollow, huh? But it's been over a year so I should probably start to get over it, right? Is that how long it takes to get over a death? I don't know. I wasn't old enough to remember Mom before she died so I don't have anything to compare it to. I'm asking you because I think you might know because you're good with this kind of stuff.

I really wish he was still alive though. Maybe if he was, we'd still live at the old house and I wouldn't have to move out here with our "high-society" cousins. Maybe if Dad didn't die I wouldn't be alone. I know I'll always have you but you're not here physically right now and I can't even call you or anything and I have to suffice with writing you a string of letters and hoping you reply.

I know you'll reply though. You told me you would.

Roderich is downstairs cooking dinner right now. I can smell it all the way up here in my room where I'm typing this. Elisabeta came in a while ago and told me to wash up before we eat and I told her I would and I probably should. So this is probably where I'm going to leave this for now. I'm sorry that it's not as long as I think you would have liked but I'll try to flesh it out a little more in my next letter to you tomorrow, okay? I keep remembering that I start school in the morning and I get really nervous. I have my supplies all ready though. All in my backpack by the door so I won't forget anything. Elisabeta picked up my school uniform from the office yesterday while I was unpacking. It's not so bad. Obviously you know I've never worn a school uniform before because the old school didn't have them but they're actually okay. The pants are purple plaid which, although it wouldn't be my first choice of fabric, doesn't look too bad with the brown sweater and blue blazer they gave me. I'm glad I get to wear a tie too. I've always liked ties. But you know that.

Wow, I didn't really conclude my letter up there like I wanted to so I'll end it now for real this time. Okay.

Your Brother,

Ludwig


	2. October Fourteenth

October Fourteenth

Dear Gilbert,

It was my first day of school today. I got up about an hour before I usually would just so I could make sure everything was in order. And, of course, it was. I put made sure my clothes weren't wrinkled and I slicked my hair back just like I always do. I wore my glasses today though. I never used to wear them but, when I was looking at myself in the mirror this morning, I realized that they make me look a little bit smarter and sophisticated. That's not to say that I'm not already smart and sophisticated, which I know I am because I read books and study and pay attention in class and always dress neatly. Yet, my glasses make me actually look like it. I knew I wasn't going to go out and tell people that I was smart or speak up in class to show I was smart but I thought, if I wore my glasses, I would look like I was smart and people would notice me.

I remember the day I got my glasses. You were there, remember? You took me to the optometrist's office by the mall a few weeks after Dad's funeral. You were being ridiculous and trying on all the different styles of glasses and making faces at yourself in the mirrors until one of the eye doctors in a white lab coat told you to please stop it before you broke something. Then she helped me pick out the little rectangular frames which you said looked nice and then we paid for them and went home.

Anyhow, I don't think people noticed me because of my glasses. I arrived at school on time because Roderich drove me on his way to work. Roderich's career doesn't sound like a very practical thing to me (he's in some orchestra, if you didn't know) but at least he made sure I was punctual.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen the school but it was different to see it when it was full of students.

I had to stand in the office for a while until the secretary found a copy of my schedule in her completely disorganized file cabinet. She smiled and gave it to me and told me good luck and then I went to my first period class which was English.

In every single block during the day I was called to the front by the teacher and introduced to the class. They all looked at me very strangely as if they'd never gotten a new student before. And, I guess I look a little old for my age, which I always have, and I guess I was a lot buffer than a lot of the other students but that's only because you and Dad always told me to work out because fitness and strength always came first.

The teachers asked me to say a little bit about myself but I didn't say much. I don't talk like the others, Gilbert. Nobody else has this dumb accent like I do and I'm afraid that, if they hear me talk, they'll bully me. I've heard a lot of different dialects in the hallways but nobody else speaks German. I don't care if they don't like me but I'd at least like to feel like I wasn't even more of an outcast than I assumed I was going to be.

I kind of just grunted my name and where I was from and why I moved and mentioned that I like the military and exercising and football (which is different in America, I realized later). Nobody seemed rather moved by my speech which is obviously understandable. And, I think I succeeded in getting across the "I am painfully shy and have no social skills whatsoever" vibe, though, so maybe my classmates picked up on it right away and will now refrain from speaking to me.

I don't know if I'm desperate for companionship or if I'd just rather be left alone. I don't even know what it feels like to be lonely since I've felt this way for my entire life. Will I feel different with friends? Did you feel different with friends? Did you ever feel like me at all? I wish I could ask you these things in person but I guess this will have to make due until I see you again.

You were always so extroverted, Gilbert. You always loved being around people and being with your friends. Do you still keep in touch with your friends from the old town. After you left, I bet they missed you. Hell, I bet they still miss you. I know I miss you and I want you to come back home. I know you won't though. I bet you're happy. I bet you're living the dream. Did you make new friends? I hope you did because I know you wouldn't be the same without them. You could never live like me. You like people and I just don't. I wish I could be like you though. I wish people didn't make me so uncomfortable.

I ate lunch by myself. I found a little empty corner in the crowded cafeteria and unwrapped the little paper bag lunch that Elisabeta made for me. I told her she didn't need to pack me a lunch and that I would pack my own or buy the school lunch but she didn't listen. I think she likes to baby me. I think she really wants to have children of her own but I don't think Roderich does and that makes her upset. Maybe, if you came back, you could have a chance to win her over, no offense to Roderich or anything.

I took my time to observe the other students though, while I was alone in the corner. A lot of them were loud and shrill and made me want to punch them in the face. Then there were other quite ones like me but even they seemed to have their friend groups.

Gilbert, I'm beginning to think that I may never have friends. But, is that really a problem? I've been perfectly fine on my own up to this point. Well, perhaps not perfectly fine but I've been doing alright. In all honesty, I'm probably better off alone. You and I both know I've got my problems. It was hard enough dealing with them yourself when we lived together and we're even family. I don't think any stranger would want to put up with me.

But, I just don't want to be alone anymore. I come to school and nobody talks to me, I go home and nobody understands, I go to sleep and I don't even dream. What's there to dream of anyhow? What am I supposed to dream about? The social life I'll never have? The relationship I'll never be in? Maybe I could dream of my wonderful experiences in life! Oh wait. I haven't had any. It's all getting pretty ridiculous if you ask me. Though, you didn't ask me, so... Never mind.

It just kind of hurts, okay? It's really awful to know that no one in the entire world thinks of me as someone they'd like to be friends with. I try my hardest but I just can't bring myself to do anything about it, too, so, really, I guess I'm to blame. Then again, I'm to blame for a lot of stuff that goes wrong in my life. Most of it, actually. And the rest, I'm assuming, is bad karma I gained from being a jackass in a past life or something.

I apologize for venting but I have to write this down. It's not the same as keeping a diary, you know? When you write in a journal you're assuming that nobody will ever read it and that those thoughts will stay privately yours forever. However, when you're writing a letter to someone, it's safe to assume that the recipient will read and, hopefully, respond to said letter. The difference, I think, is that, when you write a letter, you want somebody to hear you. You want somebody to listen to you and tell you how to fix your terrible life. I don't expect you to tell me how to fix it in a way that isn't some cryptic riddle so I guess the object is for you to just read my letters and know that I am honestly and truly unhappy with my existence. I just want you to help me, Gilbert. Nobody else can.

People say "make your own happiness" but that's absolute bullshit. How do they expect me to make my own happiness if every single day is like living in my own, personal Hell? Do I want to be around people or am I afraid of them? I think the answer is both and that worries me. I don't understand myself.

Hell, even I don't understand myself. What does that tell you? That I'm seriously messed up and broken beyond repair, that's what. And, if you can't help me, I don't know what else to do. I don't think I physically show how upset I am deep down because nobody seems to notice and, if they do, they must not be concerned.

Do you think I could talk to Elisabeta about this? I mean, she seems to care about me in an overprotective-motherly way which, I'm assuming, is close enough to something like a trustworthy maternal figure, right?

However, knowing me, I probably won't speak up. I never say what I really mean. That's another thing I hate about myself.

And, something else I hate about myself is the fact that I have to tell you all of this. Nothing against you, you're my older brother and I know you're here for me always but I just feel wrong having to rely on you to help me. Shouldn't I be able to get through high school on my own? Or, am I always going to be that kid who cries to his brother when he gets picked on in gym class?

I'm sorry, Gilbert, this letter has turned into more of a pity party than an actual message. I will try, in my next letter, to refrain from being so... emotional?

Again, I apologize.

Your Brother,

Ludwig


	3. October Fifteenth

October Fifteenth

Dear Gilbert,

Something spectacular happened today. Well, I don't know if you could call it spectacular or not. Whatever the case, something "peculiar" and "different" did happen and I'm still kind of in awe over it.

Before I venture into that I want to confirm something with you. I sent you the letter containing my first day of school antics (which were not really antics at all) this morning. I walked to school today and dropped the envelope off at the post office on my way. I will mail this one tomorrow morning. I actually prefer walking to school as opposed to Roderich's rides. Whenever I go anywhere with him it's quite awkward and quiet and I feel like I should say something and break the silence for the sake of being polite but his conversations are often very, very long, one-sided, preachy, forced, among a lot of other things that I could list that would make it even more clear that I really, really, really do not like communicating with that man.

Anyhow, when I walk to school, it is just the right time of morning where it's brisk and light and just exudes the air of autumn. The weather the past few days has been beautiful. You should see it, Gilbert; it's just like when Dad would have us get up at dawn and go running! You would probably hate it, now that I think about it. You never liked to get up that early, did you? I did, though. I'm a morning person, I think.

When I got to school this morning, I was expecting things to go as they did yesterday and, for the most part, the day started out the same. I walked in, cowered away from the crowds of squealing teenagers like a sensible person, marched to my locker, and went to English class. Actually, the day was as bland as a British luncheon until about midday when, coincidentally, lunchtime rolled around. Today I had managed to pack my own paper bag full of things completely opposite to what Elisabeta would have sent with me. That means no cakes, no sweets, no cookies or donuts or candy. No. I took along healthy, hearty things like potatoes and... okay. I just brought a lot of potatoes. But that's completely aside from the point.

I had just sat down to eat when I heard a small "ahem" from behind me. I turned around and there was this... kid standing there. He had the biggest, goofiest smile on his face and I wasn't sure what to do. This was the first time anyone had ever attempted to talk to me.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

The smile fell from his face. "Oh."

"Wait, no. I mean, no, I don't mind. Yes, you can sit here." I desperately attempted to make sure I didn't blow it. It could have been my only chance at friendship, you know.

He sat down across the table from me. "You're Ludwig, right? I think we have History class together," he said.

I nodded. I remembered him. He sat right in front of me and fidgeted in his seat a lot. "Yeah, we do."

"Cool! I knew it! I'm Feliciano, by the way."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

I mean, that could have been a lie. Is it really a pleasure that I met him? I don't know yet, I barely know him. Then again, he's the first person who's talked to me at all since I moved here so I guess I'm grateful for that. And, who knows? Maybe he could turn out to be a really dear friend to me? I'm not hopeful, though. I'm sure, once he gets to know me, he won't want anything to do with me. So, I guess I shouldn't get so attached.

But, somebody talked to me, Gilbert! For the first time ever I might have a friend! And, I don't understand how this makes me feel... I know I don't dread going to school so much anymore because I know I won't always be alone because Feliciano said he'd sit with me every day at lunch if I was okay with that. And I said I was. And he said "Okay!"

Apparently he didn't have many friends either. People liked him, of course, but nobody could really stand being around him for a long time. I don't know why but I guess I'll find out? Nobody can really stand being around me for a long time either so perhaps I've met my match? In a strictly platonic way, I mean. Don't get any ideas, Gilbert. I know how you are.

I'm not gay. At least, I don't think I am. Then again, I've never really liked anyone or found anyone of a certain gender attractive. Perhaps I'm asexual? I'm not really sure what that means but I think it means that you just don't like anybody. That's depressing because I definitely want to have a relationship at some point in my life and maybe even get married some day. To who, however, is the big issue. What if I am gay and I just don't know it yet? Is equal marriage supported in this state? What if I want to marry a man and I can't do it here? I know it's a weird question and I shouldn't be worried about it at my age but what if!?

Maybe I'm just getting too worked up over it. That's probably it. I'm a wreck, aren't I? I make one friend and then I'm questioning my sexuality and panicking about the state legislature. Please don't make fun of me, Gilbert. Okay, I know you totally will but whatever.

If I ever do become romantically involved with someone, no matter their sex or gender, I'm just warning you now, I'm probably going to have to detail the experience to you because I'll need your advice because... like I'll know what to do! I can assure you, I'll be helpless and stupid in any and all romantic or sexual situation.

I don't even know how to masturbate properly. Okay, that was a little awkward to say but you once told me I could talk to you about this kind of stuff if I needed to and I think I need to. Not quite this second though. I'm not worried about that just yet.

Damn, I'm pathetic, aren't I?

Oh, and I was thinking about something today. Remembering, more or less. I was just thinking about how you would always call me by my middle name a lot of the time and I kind of miss that even though I hated it at the time. So, next time I see you could you maybe call me "West" like you used to? Thanks, Gilbert.

Anyhow, back to what I was talking about before I went into all that sexuality stuff, I'd like to ask for your advice on what to do with a friend? Should I invite him over here at some point? What do you do with someone if they come over to your house to hang out? (Shut up. I know what you're thinking, Douchebag.)

But no, really. I think maybe I should get to know him better before I make plans to do stuff. I think I should see if we have any shared interests and go from there. What do you think?

He says his family is from Italy which is cool because we're from Germany and those two were allies in World War Two, right? I don't know why I'm asking you. You never paid attention in History class.

I kid, I kid. (You never really did pay attention in History class, though. I'm just saying.)

Honestly, though, I'm glad I've made friends with someone who's also an outcast foreigner like myself. We're actually really similar in a lot of weird parallel ways, now that I think about it. He has an older brother too although he's a little younger than you are. He's a senior now, I think. Feliciano's in my grade. He says he knows a lot of people because they're friends of his brother's boyfriend.

"Your brother has a boyfriend?" I asked him.

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because he likes boys, silly!" Feliciano laughed and explained that his brother's boyfriend was a big football star (American football. Wow!) and everybody loved him so, by default, even though Feliciano's brother is apparently not very nice, people thought he was cool and, subsequently thought Feliciano and their even younger brother who he didn't have much to say about were also cool.

I can relate to that. The only reason I didn't get picked on too much in middle school was because you were grades ahead of me and made our name a legend. I mean, I guess you could call it a legend. You just kind of made teachers hate me, no offense. They still hated me after you left. The only difference is that, once you stopped going to school with me, people made fun of me a whole lot more and then that whole bad thing happened that I won't talk about and now I'm here. Yay.

I'm beginning to get a better vibe from this school though. Maybe I'll be able to cope with people better if I stick with Feliciano. He seems pretty social, from what I've gathered. Can you imagine though, Gilbert!? Me having friends!? I never would have thought that this would happen to me, really. I've never had a friend in my whole life and now I do! Wow. It's a lot to take in. And I'm not even exaggerating or anything. He actually said that we were friends. Of course I wasn't like "Gee whiz! I'm so excited for companionship! Yippee!" because I don't think I've ever said the words "Gee whiz" or "Yippee" in my entire life. I played it cool like "That's nice. Thank you." because those are words I would actually say in my day-to-day conversations.

Wow, you are probably laughing really hard at your pathetic little bruder right now. I can feel it. I don't care. Laugh all you want. I have a friend.

I know I've asked this before but... Do you have friends anymore? I am very curious to know, actually. You always got along with people so well in school and I hope you made new friends or kept in touch with your buddies from high school because they were kind of upset when you left. I was too. That's why you should come back. We all miss you here (even Roderich, probably!) and we would be content if you at least visited once and a while. I know you're busy but, you know... We're family, right? And I think that means you should recognize that we're still here wishing you would come back. I know... I know you're probably having a lot of fun and I'm sorry to keep pulling you back with my emotional problems but it would mean a lot to me, especially, if you dropped by, even if was only for an afternoon or a few hours or even if you drove your car past the house and yelled "Guten tag!" I think I would be happy.

So, once again, I say thanks for listening and I'll write you again tomorrow. I know it seems like I write you a lot, and I do, but you're my brother and I kind of have to. You understand, right? I hope to see you soon.

Your Brother,

Ludwig


	4. October Sixteenth

October Sixteenth

Dear Gilbert,

I think things are finally smoothing out at school. I've been attending there for three days now and it's getting a lot easier to get to class and generally exist now. And, like he said he would, Feliciano sat with me at lunch today! He had a lot more to say today than he did previously. He seems to really be investing in our friendship which I think is great. We compared interests and found that, like I suspected, we have a lot in common in weird way. That is to say, we may not like all the same things but what we like and don't like tends to harmonize, if that sounds correct.

Let me provide an example. He enjoys to sing and dance. I do not like to sing and dance but I find it pleasurable to watch someone else sing and dance. I like to play sports. He does not like to play sports but, rather, likes to watch others physically exert themselves. Okay, when I put it that way it sounds strange but you know what I mean. One sport he does like, however, is football. And I mean real football not the American game where they don't even use their feet on the ball! Did you know they call our football "soccer" in America? It's odd, I know.

Anyhow, there are a few things that Feliciano and I both enjoy, though. One is cooking. I love cooking and you know I do. I especially love baking. I could bake every day and not get tired of it. Unfortunately, Roderich usually gets around to the baking before I do and the house is full of pastries before I even get home. That bastard likes baking just as much as I do.

Feliciano, though, likes to cook. He's great at making Italian food, so I hear, which makes sense considering his heritage.

"I don't like to brag," he said, "but I'm probably the best cook ever."

"Is that so?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Feliciano stretched like he had just completed some huge feat. "Yeah, I'm pretty great at it."

He offered to cook for me sometime which I happily obliged. Friends are so kind and nifty. I'm so glad I finally have one.

I feel as if I shouldn't be this excited over having a friend. I don't think that's what normal people do, is it? I'm just not sure how to react. You know? One one hand, I've never had a friend in the world before and it's kind of a momentous occasion to me. But, contrarily, people make friends all the time and I'm sure if I stressed my enthusiasm for this sudden fraternity I would be almost sort of shunned and labeled as... Oh, I don't know... A freak?

And, off topic here, but I know this is a very casual letter but do you think I'm a little too verbose? Well, I suppose using the word "verbose" is something that an overly verbose person would do. Hm. I guess that's settled, then.

But, anyhow, I was already considered a freak at the old school and I'd really prefer if I wasn't seen in that light here. I like this school. I really do, Gilbert. I thought I was going to hate it but it's really growing on me.

Yet, about these living arrangements I could say otherwise.

See, I'm fine living with Roderich and Elisabeta. They're nice people, really. And they're the only family I have left (aside from you, of course, Gilbert! But you're not really present at the moment). And, still, though. There's just something about sharing a home with these two that is beginning to rub me the wrong way.

Elisabeta is so motherly. I'm not used to it! I'm used to masculinity and paternal figures watching over me and now I'm living with the sissiest man alive and his doting wife. Please help me, Gilbert. There are so many scented candles in this house I think I might go mad if I have to sit here in this haze of lavender and "warm vanilla sugar cookie" for any longer. I'm literally about to cry right now, it's that bad.

Even these walls that I picked out myself seem like they're closing in on me. It's so frustrating. On the inside I'm bitterly cold and alone but on the outside I'm being smothered to death. Why can I not find a medium? Why isn't there a middle ground? Can't there be a way for me to have space but also be loved? Why is it always either one or the other? I guess you can't have both, can you? Oh well. I guess I'll survive for now. But I can't tell you how long I'll be able to keep this up.

Maybe I just wasn't meant to be happy. Maybe that's it.

I think I'm going to have to wrap this up, prematurely. I kind of bummed myself out just now and I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit. I'm not feeling so well anymore. Thank you for listening again, though, Gilbert. Write back soon, okay? So I know you care. Just to make sure. Yeah. Okay, I'll write you again tomorrow!

Your Brother,

Ludwig


End file.
